


Misha's Misadventure

by Janice_Lester



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-26 19:12:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janice_Lester/pseuds/Janice_Lester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared uncovers the story behind a suspicious GISHWHES item.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misha's Misadventure

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my [300-ish fic comment party](http://janice-lester.livejournal.com/211154.html?thread=1860818#t1860818) for [](http://ghostyouknow27.livejournal.com/profile)[ghostyouknow27](http://ghostyouknow27.livejournal.com/), who wanted "A Teen wolf type scenario (one half of a pair of best buds gets bitten by a creature and transforms). But with something other than a werewolf. Like, a tentacle monster. Or a unicorn (Teen Unicorn!). Any combination of Misha, Gen and/or Jared is fine by me." And got, uh, this. Misha did not get his tentacles by choice. **Disclaimer:** I don't know these people and I made all this up. Particularly the part where Misha has tentacles. Also, I confess I'm leaning towards the view that if Misha DID grow tentacles, he would not only not keep it secret but would LORD IT OVER all the poor sad non-tentacle-equipped schmucks of the world. ;-)

GISHWHES item #123 calls for a photograph of _A person modelling a garment specially designed for the tentacle-possessing community (26 points, bonus points if garment is hand-knitted, woven, or crocheted especially for GISHWHES)_. This generates relatively little comment, given that the source is a man who encourages people to launch Christmas trees into space, dress their dogs in trench coats, and embrace the erotic delights of the sock monkey hat.

Jared Padalecki, however, perusing this year’s list of scavenger hunt items, pauses to read that one again, tapping his teeth thoughtfully. Misha _has_ been talking about tentacles a lot lately. Well, he’s mentioned them a couple times, which is more than you’d expect unless you, like, happened to be in a restaurant eating calamari or something at the time. Jared’s also pretty sure that this isn’t the first time he’s come across the term “tentacle-possessing community”, or something like it, though he’s hard-pressed to remember where and in what context he could have heard or read it.

Oh, fuck it. Jared whips out his phone and fires off a text before he can rethink the whole thing.

_~Hey Misha, anything you want to tell me about you and your apparent tentacle fascination?~_

The reply isn’t long coming. It also isn’t very enlightening.

_~I’m a man of many mysteries. You have been warned. Wait, who is this again? xxx, Dmitri.~_

Jared rolls his eyes. If Misha ever decided to start routinely giving straight answers, he’d do it in such a way that everyone thought he was still playing tricks or making jokes. He is serious in his determination to avoid being taken seriously.

Jared ponders whether it would _really_ be going too far to call Misha’s wife.

He’s still pondering when his phone rings. Caller display says it’s Misha. “Hey.”

“Okay,” Misha says, all in a rush, “so you remember I was sick at home earlier in the year, and you sent me flowers and that zombie head you stole from the set?”

Jared happens to think that _liberated_ would be a better term, since he’s pretty sure it was about to get tossed out, but he lets that go in favour of pursuing his curiosity. “I remember. Vicki told us not to visit on pain of gruesome, gruesome death.”

Misha chuckles. “Oh, yes, she’s a weapon of mass destruction when she needs to be.” All trace of audible amusement abruptly vanishes. “Never, never cross Victoria Vantoch.”

_Noted._ “So, uh…?” he prods.

“So, we did this day trip to the beach, and there was this big sign that warned not to swim there because of dangerous sea creatures.”

Jared groans. “So you did, because you don’t respect signs any more than you respect any other kind of rules.”

Misha makes a _pshaw_ noise. “Some BFF you are. No faith in me! Of course I didn’t swim there. I swam on the supposedly safe, lifeguard-patrolled part of the beach. And I got bit by something, and that night I got really sick, and the next morning I had tentacles. So, there you go, end of story. How about those Red Sox?”

“You have tentacles,” Jared repeats. “You have tentacles. You have tentacles.” Funny how repeating it makes it sound less real instead of more.

“Yep. Some people do. Not many. But you always knew I was special.”

“Yes, dear,” Jared sighs. He’s pretty sure now that he’s dreaming. Although he can’t recall ever having had a nagging headache like the one that’s currently developing behind his eyes while dreaming.

“Believe what you like,” Misha says, as if reading his thoughts. “Just don’t go telling the press about the tentacles. Or your suspicions that I might be clinically insane.”

“They wouldn’t print it,” Jared points out. “It wouldn’t sell papers. Everybody already thinks that.”

“You’re too kind,” Misha says, and he actually sounds pleased. “Smell you later.”

The call disconnects.

Jared wonders just what the hell just happened to the world.

He officially bans himself from GISHWHES, despite being in a prime position to capitalise on the existence of no fewer than _three_ Jared-Padalecki-related items on this year’s list.

***

“I knew you only wanted me for my body,” Misha complains archly, drawing Jared’s attention to the fact he is staring. “Lots of people do, so there’s no need to feel ashamed or anything. You’re in good company.”

Jared rolls his eyes. “Ass. Come on, we’re overdue in make-up.”

Jared pulls his usual tricks while they’re shooting Cas’s close-ups for the first scene of the day. Later, when he’s being Sam, glaring at Cas and Dean like his heart is breaking and he’ll never be whole again, someone gropes his ass and he loses his straight face.

_Damn_.

“Quit it,” he hisses, while the crew are prepping to go again.

Jensen looks completely innocent.

Misha is at least a yard away to his left.

And there is still a hand on Jared’s ass. He gulps. Then he looks. There’s a long, brownish, fleshy tube poking out from behind his butt where he’s leaning against the car. It disappears into the car, then out again at the far end of the open window, where it gets lost in the folds of Castiel’s immense coat. Okay, so not a hand.

Jared isn’t sure whether to laugh or freak, so he settles for a low whistle. _Tentacle_.

“Shh,” Misha stage-whispers, finger to his lips.

Jensen is staring like he’s seen a ghost.

Misha sort of bounces on his toes, and the tentacle retracts almost too fast to see until it’s slithered completely out of sight inside his costume. “Happy now?” he murmurs.

“Uh…”

“I may let you play with them later, if you’re very very good and don’t molest me during my coverage.”

Jared considers this bargain for all of two seconds. He _does_ like messing with Misha’s game, but on the other hand… _tentacles_. “Sold.”

Misha dives in to shake Jared’s hand before he can take it back.

***

Misha does indeed let Jared play with one. Well, sort of. They go to his trailer, and there’s this weird kind of ripple under Castiel’s coat, and then out pops this tentacle that apparently wants to shake hands. Jared strokes it in some awe, only Misha moans like he’s being stroked somewhere else entirely and Jared can’t tell whether or not he’s just acting. He drops the tentacle. He’s still kind of stunned at the whole—reality of the situation. Tentacles. Real, prehensile, human tentacles.

Trust Misha to get bitten by some contagious tentacle creature.

“Okay,” Misha says, “I’m just gonna go get de-Cassed. You select a beverage from the refrigeration machine to enjoy while I re-attire my good self.”

Jared does indeed grab a Fanta and sit his ass down, but it doesn’t help calm his zillion conflicting thoughts about this whole Misha-tentacle thing. He just kind of stares at nothing until Misha emerges once more, now dressed in his usual jeans and pastel t-shirt. It’s not something Jared really noticed before, but Misha _has_ been wearing his jeans a lot looser lately, and it’s surely not for fashion reasons because Misha sneers at fashion. _To make room for his tentacles_ , he thinks, with an odd jolt of something he recognises belatedly as excitement. His best friend. Has tentacles. Tentacles.

“So if you bite me, will I grow tentacles?”

“Why would I want to bite _you_? Honestly, young Jared, I am most happily married.”

“And not biting your friends was part of your marriage vows?”

Misha gets this _look_ on his face, sort of wistful and triumphant at once, as if he’s plotting to change the world again like he did with Random Acts. “It should be. I could write the most amazing, mind-bending, rip-roaring marriage vows the world has ever seen…” He blinks. “Or I could write an epic poem about taking my offspring to Pride.” He bounces. “Ooh, did I show you the awesome tentacle-accommodating specimens of the knitted art form my minions sent me?”

“Nope. Care to model ‘em for me?”

Misha beams like he’s just been invited to run for president of the world. And then he frowns briefly, before a look of dawning wonder comes over his face. “Jared,” he whispers, “Jared. What if biting _does_ pass it on, and what if—what if I bit _Jensen_?”

Jared shrugs, lost. Misha wants to bite Jensen and not him?

Wait, he _wants_ Misha to bite him?

“If I bit Jensen,” Misha explains patiently, “and he grew tentacles too, he’d be _Jensen Tent-Ackles._ ”

Jared actually feels his jaw fall open. He’s sure he looks like a flabbergasted fish, but for a moment at least there is nothing, nothing in the world he can do about it.

“Oh, god, Jared, I’m not sure I can resist—”

Jared sighs. Then he puts his drink down. Then he gets up to tackle his best buddy before he can make it out the door to go Jensen-hunting.

Misha giggles and struggles and insists he was joking. Jared tickles him thoroughly as punishment.

They find out later through extensive research that it doesn’t work like that, anyway, you have to be bitten by the actual creature in the water, and even then it doesn’t always take. Oddly enough, that doesn’t stop Jared pondering from time to time what it would feel like if Misha bit him…

***END***


End file.
